


Reverse

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Serious Injuries, masi gets beat up and lusa has to patch him up wwww
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9109843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: What a reverse situation they’d found themselves in. It’d be laughable if Lusa didn’t have his mind full of worries. Hands busied, his thoughts keep spiralling out of control, over and over again.What if.





	

What a reverse situation they’d found themselves in. It’d be laughable if Lusa didn’t have his mind full of worries. Hands busied, his thoughts keep spiralling out of control, over and over again.

_What if._

_What if it had been a little closer. A little faster. A little more lethal._

He wraps bandages around the gauze firmly pressed against Mastermind’s thigh, making sure each of his movements are gentle and aren’t causing the other any more pain than is absolutely necessary. Red seeps through within moments, yet the inventor only winces minimally.

_What if._

_What if the gashes were deeper. What if they had hit a vital organ._

With careful fingers, Lusa dabs the numerous cuts with a wad of cotton soaked with rubbing alcohol. Again, Mastermind only shows the bare minimum of being in pain. He presses plasters over the tinier ones, colorful, adorned with cartoonish depictions of kitties. (Esper had gotten them once because he said he couldn’t resist their tiny, blushy faces. “Plus, they’d been on sale!” he had said. “Look at them! They’re adorable!” They laughed at it, thought they’d never get to use them. Yet, here they are now.

They’re not laughing now.)

They don’t say a word, the only sounds are the occasional hisses or hitched breaths that escape Masi’s careful façade. There are no words to say, anyway.

The differences in the situation are so stark that they simply still manage to startle Lusa, even as the moment drags on and on. There seems to be no end to the cuts, the plasters pile on and on, until Masi’s whole arms and legs are covered in them. One of the arms is held straight by a cast, fixated in place by a pretty thick layer of bandages.

It’s such a unusual sight, when Mastermind gets hurt in battle. Lusa himself is almost unscathed, save for the small bruise on his thigh (small, he says; it’s about the size of a fist), though he is usually the one to end up banged up and in need of medical attention, with his up close and personal fighting style. Masi is really good at it too; can clean and bandage a wound in record time and with almost no pain.

Lusa… isn’t sure he’s doing such a great job. Masi hisses again as he ties the bandage and he apologizes, rubs the unhurt skin next to the bruise softly as another form of apology. It seems to work, Masi gives him a small, strained smile.

“I hate you,” are the first words to leave Lusa’s lips after they’re done, just sitting in the bathroom, Lusa leaned against the wall and Masi sitting on the edge of the bathtub. But the words are soft, they carry no meaning, there’s no bite to them. As if there could be.

“Any other news?” Masi quips right back. He even manages a grin to accompany the sarcastic words, but his eyes are a little dull, Lusa can tell. He isn’t happy about getting hurt. Can’t blame him.

“Well, if you gotta know, your blood’s still red.”

Masi scoffs, but then he laughs. “Thanks. That’s good to know.”

It’s weird, joking like this when Masi is the one hurt. With Lusa it’s normal, he’s used to his fair share of pain and having to get treated, but this one… is new. He isn’t quite sure how to react.

“You gonna take a while to heal, hope you know that,” Lusa says, now serious. He’s imitating words he’s heard a million times before. He folds his arms and almost looks like a parent scolding their child for taking a cookie from the metaphoric cookie jar. “No going near battles. No battles at all.”

Masi looks like he wants to literally say _‘you’re not my mom!’_ , but he doesn’t, he just grits his teeth. They both know he hates being bossed around (they all do), but they also know Lusa is one hundred percent right. Masi can’t even think of fighting with a broken arm.

It had been a stupid mishap. Masi shouldn’t have been that close to the Wind Chief in the first place. He should’ve let Lusa handle it. He should’ve stayed back and commanded Apocalypse and his drones from a safe distance.

But mishaps happen. That’s why they’re here now.

“Promise me you won’t do that again,” Lusa asks. He offers Masi a hand and gently pulls him onto his feet. “You really had me scared there.”

The inventor does look like he wants to disagree, to argue, but in the end, he doesn’t. “I'll… be more careful,” he says, dodging the promise just a little bit while still putting Lusa’s mind at ease. Though one look at Masi’s bare skin, coated with bandages and the ridiculous plasters (which Masi seems to be especially interested in now that they’re on his skin, bringing up his hand to inspect a few of the tiny kittens) is enough to make Lusa’s stomach churn.

He didn’t know he’d hate this sight as much as he would until he’d seen it.

“Thanks… Anything I can do to ease your pain?” Lusa asks. Masi usually makes him a giant mug (the kitty one, with whiskers for holders and the tiny protruding ears on the top) of hot chocolate, melted straight from their favorite bars and flavored with cinnamon and milk. He could try his hand at making it, but he doubts it’d be anywhere near Masi’s quality.

“I want a coffee, for starters. And maybe water… I did lose a bunch of blood…” Masi mutters, the last part being more to himself than anything. “And you should kiss my wounds better, I heard that does wonders.” He doesn’t mention he’d heard it when Aisha tried to get Elsword to kiss her scraped wrist. No need to.

“One coffee coming right up,” Lusa promises. “Can you walk okay?”

Masi nods, and the two of them slowly make their way to the kitchen area. “Also,” Lusa comments when he’s heating up the water and portioning the coffee beans and sugar, “I can’t kiss all your wounds. There’s too many, plus that’d probably hurt like hell. Nuh uh. Not doing that to you.”

Masi laughs from his spot on the couch as he watches his counterpart with something akin to fondness twinkling in his pink eyes. “Then why don’t you just kiss me as a whole?”

“Oh? Hohoh, I can do that,” the berserker laughs. He brings over a steaming mug of coffee, made precisely to Masi’s tastes, and places it onto the coffee table. He can taste the self-satisfied smile on Masi’s lips when he leans down to presses their lips together.

Masi knows he can get this even without getting banged up, but being in a state like this makes it seem a little more appropriate for him to request something like this. He feels a little less bad for requesting affection like this. He’d never been good with asking for it in the first place, anyway.

His arm hurts like a bitch, though. Not gonna repeat this just for some kisses, that’s for sure.


End file.
